DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [32]
“As little as possible. The older I get, the more I’m inclined to think it’s often an invasion of privacy.”
In memory, Bardon heard his own voice repeating a principle to Scribe Moran. “Draw the boundary of the mind that keeps you whole and respect the boundary drawn by another.”
Not much farther, they passed a woebegone monarch tree. Many rough stubs showed where limbs had cracked and fallen. Uneven patches of good growth revealed the heart of the tree to be sound. A man and his dog came out to greet them. Blosker took his half of the one-thousand-grood prize money readily.
“I knew that would be one whopper of a race,” said the man who’d given up Ten so Squire Bardon could ride. “I’ve done that course plenty. It’s punishment for rider and kindia.” He grinned and bounced the sack of coins in the palm of his hand. “It’s good to have the money without the soreness you’re going to feel tomorrow.”
Bardon laughed and agreed. Already his muscles ached for a hot bath.
“Why did you come home?” asked N’Rae. “Why didn’t you wait at the finish line to get your money?”
The weathered man pressed the bag of coins against his chest and pondered for a moment before answering. “Why, to give your friend here a chance to do the honorable thing. Then again, Hoddack might not have given the squire here the purse to carry to me. Then the old man himself would have a chance to show his core is aboveboard even if his style of dealing with folks makes you think otherwise.
“Master Hoddack’s a strange boss,” added Blosker. “Prides himself in being honest because his own family weren’t known for being straightforward. When he married to get the farm, everyone thought he would be a stain on the neighborhood. But he’s honorable in his begrudging way.”
Blosker tossed the bag in the air, caught it, and slipped it inside his shirt. “The dame’s father ran the business with a smile. It was right prosperous. Hoddack’s kept it making a profit, but he doesn’t have the genteel feel about him. Works hard, just doesn’t know how to relax and enjoy what he’s worked for.”
Drummerbugs and crickets sang as the three walked back toward town.
“What did you learn, infant?” asked Granny Kye.
N’Rae shrugged.
“I won’t take that for an answer.” The old woman spoke softly as if she did not want to disturb the music of the night air. “Think of the people you saw today. The seven high races have much in common. All are prone to err. Not one of the high races is more righteous than another. Without fail you may count on individuals to sometimes make mistakes and sometimes do things right when dealing with their lot.”
Bardon thought N’Rae would not answer, but eventually her small voice mingled with the cool breeze. “Hoddack does not enjoy his life and seeks to better it. The children of the injured man enjoy without having much. The mother sought to share what little supper she had. It’s choices, isn’t it?”
Granny patted her arm. “Yes, choices.”
Bardon wondered what choices Hoddack would be making. He couldn’t get the last thing Blosker said about the kindia breeder out of his mind.
“Hoddack holds on to an idea like a bodoggin. Once he’s thought of a plan, he don’t give up.”
11
BE PREPARED
Bardon managed to escape the women to have supper and a bath in his room. Too weary to master his thoughts, he lay in the tub of hot water and drifted from one scenario to another. In one half dream, Paladin arrived and took over the care of the three women, ordering Bardon to return to the mountain cabin. In another, N’Rae’s father strode through the inn door and announced he’d been shipwrecked and just managed to return to Amara. In the last, N’Rae declared her undying love for Holt Hoddack, and the farm boy took over the expedition to the Northern Reach.
He could think of no principle that would allow him to indulge in these fantasies.
“‘A meager man looks to his own comfort first,’” he recited as he hauled his aching body out of the cooling water.
“‘The straight path to easy living is fraught with deception, the worst being in the heart of the man who